


Crossroads

by HappyHappyReader



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV), When Calls the Heart (TV)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Ichabbie Weekend, These two fandoms? Really?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-19 00:25:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15498171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyHappyReader/pseuds/HappyHappyReader
Summary: A Sleepy Hollow/When Calls the Heart Crossover and I think my very first fanfic of any real length. I wrote this long before Jack Thorton went to the Northern Territories and considering what happened at the end of the 5th season, this fic seems, shall we say, rather prophetic.Ichabbie is always ichabbie.  Abbie and Crane find themselves thrown back in time to Hope Valley.As this was my first real fic, (previously posted on tumblr) I am sure there are a ton of mistakes but I would appreciate any comments or thoughts for those who want to take the time.Enjoy and thanks for reading.





	Crossroads

_“Lieutenant we are stranded in this time and place for the next 24 hours. There is no way around it. The spell’s instructions were quite specific.”_

_“Damn! I’m getting real tired of ‘Abbie gets sent to some crazy time or place’ spells! Can we not make that a thing ever again? Where the hell are we anyway?”_

_“I cannot rightly say, but I do see signs of civilization in that direction. Shall we?” Indicating they should start walking south. Abbie could see what looked like smoke from chimneys not too far off._

_Handing Crane the small bag of supplies she insisted they carry on this mission given her last experience with witches bent on time travel, Abbie started to walk in that direction. “Fine. And Crane? Let’s keep the sharing to a minimum, at least until we get the lay of the land.”_

_“I am in complete agreement, Lieutenant,” taking Abbie’s hand with a smile as they walked towards the town._

###

 

Jack saw the pair walk into town from his vantage point on the jail porch.  Even if people didn’t normally just walk into Hope Valley, they would have been noticeable. The man – tall and bearded, was wearing what Jack could only describe as some old timey costume. The woman was petite with a riot of curly brown hair and, well Jack didn’t want to say that her trousers looked skin tight - but they did. And all of that was before he noted the most obvious difference in color. Jack considered himself a modern man and certainly not one for prejudice, but even he admitted seeing a pair like them walk into town was not a regular sight. Heck, truth be told – it was a first.

Jack walked two steps down the porch as they passed in front of the jail, extending his hand in greeting to the taller man, “Hello, I’m Constable Jack Thorton. Welcome to Hope Valley.”

Wiping his hand on his trousers before extending it Crane admired the red serge of Jack’s uniform.  _Very smart_ , “Oh yes, hello. My name is Ichabod Crane” shaking Jack’s hand with the slightest bow. He was British, Jack noted immediately and from his refined accent and manner, well educated.  _Elizabeth would like speaking with him_.  “And this is my wife – Abigail Mills Crane.” As modern as Jack considered himself even he couldn’t keep the surprise off his face. Thankfully, Mr. Crane had the grace to ignore it.

The woman turned her head sharply back at the sound of her name, almost surprised from what Jack could see. She quickly recovered, “Sorry. It’s only been about a month. Still not quite used to the name change” extending her hand to shake Jack’s firmly, “I’m Abbie. Abbie is fine.”  _An American_. As she shook Jack’s hand, he got the distinct impression that as petite as she was, she’d handle herself well in a fight. Before he could help himself, a question popped into his mind “Are you in law enforcement, ma’am?”

“What would make you say that?” her eyes narrowed slightly.

“You do things I would do. Looking around. Checking out the town. And your grip – firm.”

“Very astute, Constable. The Lieutenant is an officer in federal law enforcement and most certainly not to be underestimated in close quarter combat.”

“Crane…” a warning with a tilt of her head.

“Of course, Treasure…” an apology with his fingers twitching by his side.

Observing the two, Jack the Mountie was fascinated by the power dynamic. Jack the man decided a change of subject was in Mr. Crane’s best interest. “Well, how long do you two plan on being in Hope Valley?”

“Only overnight. The Lieut – my apologies…habit. Abbie and I must leave to return home tomorrow.” Jack thought Mr. Crane looked almost disappointed. “And would you be so kind as to indulge me, where might we procure a local newspaper?”

Stepping up the porch to retrieve the newspaper he’d been reading when they walked into town, “Here you go. Feel free to take mine. I’m done with it,” handing over the paper to Crane.

“Thank you most kindly. Oh look, it says that your summer festival is just a few days away. July 15, 1911. The weather is quite good this time of year in the Northwest Territories of Canada, don’t you think Abbie?”

“Canada. Early 20th century.  _That’s just great_.” Jack thought he heard her mumble. Speaking louder, “Yes, it is really good weather for this time of year.” Turning to face Jack, “Where can we find something to eat and a place to spend the night?”

“Abigail’s Café is on the corner over there” pointing over Abbie’s shoulder “and there are rooms for rent over the saloon across the street.”

Clearing his throat and standing up even straighter as if that were even possible, “Unfortunately, we have no local currency at the moment. Is there work I could do in barter for meals and overnight lodging?”

Jack looked them over and came to an immediate decision, “Come with me. I’ve got something for you,” turning to lead them into the jail and over to his desk, “The RNWMP gives each Constable vouchers for local business establishments to use as we see fit.” Handing Crane several pieces of paper with the Canadian police force seal. “These should be enough for lunch, dinner and breakfast at Abigail’s, a few drinks at the saloon and a bunk for the night”

Both Crane and Abbie spoke up: “This is far too generous, Constable.” “We can’t do that – it’s too much!” Jack’s raised a hand to silence them both, although he suspects this just might be the only time he’ll see them agree on something. “Look, I’ve been the Constable here for over a year and haven't had reason to use these vouchers. Your need is as good of a reason as any from where I sit. So, it’s not too much at all.”

Abbie still looked uncertain, but more accepting. Jack could tell she was used to being suspicious of anything she thought was too good to be true.   _Good officer of the law, I bet_. “Well, thanks for these. We appreciate it. Crane, let’s get settled in the room first and then find some food, ok?”

“After you, Abbie.” Jack followed the unusual pair out of his office and watched them cross the street to the saloon. Jack figured he’d give the town an hour, maybe two, before word of the new visitors circulated and the talk started.

###

Jack’s estimate was dead right because as the pair entered Abigail’s for lunch, most of the town had already discussed the visitors and just what made them so odd for a place like Hope Valley – shoot for the entire Northwest of Canada as far as Jack was concerned. Abigail, being who she was, didn’t miss a beat.

“Hello, you must be Mr. and Mrs. Crane.” Walking over to the pair standing just inside the café door like they were new friends. One more reason on a long list of reasons why Jack Thorton deeply admired Abigail Stanton. “Just take a seat at any open table and I’ll be right with you to take your order.” Jack noted how Crane held the chair out for his wife and her face softened, more than a bit, as she thanked him and took her seat.

“So that’s them. They seem rather ill-suited.” Jack turned his attention back to Elizabeth and his lunch. “Why?” Jack asked, afraid of Elizabeth’s answer. He knew her high society upbringing did not have room for the likes of Abbie Mills Crane and he honestly did not want to think about what that might mean for her views on certain things.  Leaning in with a whisper, “Well, he’s so much taller than she is…how do you suppose they manage?”  Jack played innocent – wanting to see just how far she’d take this, “Manage what, exactly?” “Well, you and I are of similar height…” she said, slightly blushing, “It makes certain things easier.”  _I have her now_ , as he worked hard to keep his face and tone deadpan, “Well, I suspect the height difference is much less of a concern once they’re lying down,” looking Elizabeth dead in the eye.

3…2…1 and Elizabeth Thatcher blushed a most becoming shade of deep pink, just as Jack knew she would. He chuckled, picked up his hat and took the check to the counter to settle, leaving Elizabeth with her embarrassment and some new thoughts to contemplate about what lying down with Jack Thorton might be like…someday.

###

Jack hadn’t seen this many residents of Hope Valley in the saloon since the last town dance and he knew why as soon as Mr. and Mrs. Crane descended the stairs and everyone tried not to stare at them wide-eyed and gawking. Once again, from his vantage point at the bar nursing his one beer of the night, he saw Abigail Stanton come to their rescue, leaving Elizabeth and Clara and walking over to the pair as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Mr. and Mrs. Crane, how nice to see you this evening! How was your day? Did you get to see any of our little town?” beaming up at Crane, he thought her a most charming woman. Abbie was taken right back to the warmth of her ancestor Grace Dixon and really relaxed for the first time in hours – days even.

“Thank you very much for sending supper to our room, Mrs. Stanton.” Slightly bowing yet again. “It was very kind of you given that Abbie was not feeling well due to our travels. We stayed in after lunch, so I’m afraid did not see nearly as much of the town as we would have liked. And please, call me Ichabod. Mr. Crane was my father and I scarce need to be reminded of him….”

Abbie spoke up, stopping Crane’s train of thought “I was able to take a short walk around while Crane took a nap late this afternoon. It’s a nice town. You should be proud of what you have here. And please, Abbie is fine.”

Abigail smiled, “We are – very proud. Thank you. Ichabod, why don’t you join Mountie Jack at the bar while I take Abbie to play darts with us ladies?” Both having the sudden understanding that very few people ever got away with not doing exactly what Abigail Stanton asked of them, Crane made his way over to Mountie Jack while Abbie followed Abigail to a small group of women playing darts, both passing what Jack thought was the better part of Hope Valley’s population on the way.

“So, what will you have, Mr. Crane…Ichabod?” Jack adjusted. “Whatever you’re having will be more than sufficient, Constable…Jack,” Crane adjusted as well, with more difficulty than Jack, he thought unfortunately.   Jack motioned to the bartender for another beer. When it arrived, Ichabod downed half of it in one breath. Impressed and a touch awed, Jack watched half the drink disappear in moments.

“Aww that was quite refreshing. Thank you.” Crane turned towards Jack, content and relaxed. Finally.

Looking over at Elizabeth chatting with Abbie while Abigail instructed Clara on darts, Jack thought this might be his only chance.

Clearing his throat and getting Crane’s attention, “Ichabod, can I ask you a personal question?” His eyebrow rose, but otherwise Crane said nothing, merely giving Jack a quick nod, “You and Abbie, you seem like very different people – maybe as different as two people I’ve ever seen and yet you both appear very happy with each other…” Jack faltered, not really knowing now that he started down this road, how to go all the way to his point. Fortunately, for him, Ichabod Crane was a smart man.

“Ah, you are wondering how the marriage of Abbie and I might inform your intentions towards your Miss Thatcher.” raising his pointer finger close to Jack as he spoke.

Shock. There was no other word for it. “How’d you - ?”

“This is a small town and just as there was much I overheard about Abbie and myself during lunch, I also heard your and Miss Thatcher’s name bandied about quite a bit.  You two have been courting for almost a year. She is from a large city, quite wealthy and privileged and you, dare I say as delicately as I can, are not. There is speculation that you and she, while clearly enamored of each other, may not be able to overcome your obvious differences in station, background and expectation, as it were. Am I close?” he asked in a tone that said he knew damn well he was spot on.

 _He’s used to always being right and acts like it,_  Jack thought.  _That must get annoying sometimes_. “Too close.” Jack said with some small ire. “Well…?”

Reaching for his beer and taking one breath to finish it, Ichabod signaled the bartender for another and turned his attention back to Jack – finger at the ready, “Well, I have only one question for you, Mountie Jack. Does your Miss Thatcher make you the best you will ever be?” Confused, Jack asked, “The best what?”

Crane leaned in and grabbed Jack on his left shoulder - like a friend, “The best  _everything_. The best  _Mountie_. The best  _man_. The best potential  _husband and father_. Does being with your Miss Thatcher, being by her side and having her by yours, not only make you  _better_ , but your  _best_? If the answer to that question is a resounding, unqualified “yes” then  _nothing else matters_.” He emphasized, getting excited, both hands moving in front of Jack. “My Abbie improves me – makes me my best – simply by who and what she is. It took some time for me to realize just how much she meant to me and what that would mean for our professional association, but once I understood it, I am pleased to say that my next act was to tell her exactly what I felt and implore her to consider my advance of courtship. Thankfully for me she did… granted only after some time and discussion…for my Abbie is cautious with her affections as she should be for they are worth so very much.”

Jack nods, his mind catching up to Crane’s words, thinking, and coming to a new understanding of what Elizabeth means to him and what he  _hopes_  he means to her. “Thank you, Ichabod. You’ve given me a lot to think about and I appreciate the help.”

A pat on the shoulder, “Make no mention of it, my good man. Now, do you think Mrs. Stanton will let me near my wife or am I relegated to spending time with only men for the rest of the evening?”

A wide grin and a hand on Ichabod’s shoulder as well, “Why don’t we go over there and find out? Knowing Abigail, it will be real clear if we can stay or not.”

“Capital idea,” Ichabod laughed as they walked over to the women, Abbie smiled brightly at her husband’s arrival.

_###_

Elizabeth thought fondly back to the previous night as she sipped her morning coffee in the parlor of the café, still in her nightgown and robe, writing in her diary while Abigail prepared for the morning rush.  She couldn’t remember the last time she had such fun.  Continuing her entry,

**_It was Abbie who suggested a men vs. women game of darts and I wasn’t sure the women had a good chance, but both Abbie and Abigail turned out to be quite skilled and we women won by a respectable margin. Unfortunately, I was the weakest player on the women’s team or we would have won by more. If only Mr. Avery hadn’t shown up to add a third male or I wouldn’t have had to play at all! Nevertheless, there was lots of laughing and good-natured ribbing and it was all in good fun. The best fun. By far the most interesting part of the evening for me was seeing the plain, obvious admiration and love Mr. Crane has for his wife.  Why, he barely kept his eyes off her form all evening! Well, I must admit, she has quite the womanly form. Those trousers!_ **

**_They are very different – Mr. Crane – Ichabod – rather solicitous and gentlemanly and Abbie – very plainspoken but warm. And an officer of the law too –just like Jack! What a surprise that was, I must say. I do hope I get to ask Abbie how she came to have such a dangerous yet important calling and how Ichabod – the professor (who would have thought it?) manages not to be deathly afraid every time his wife leaves the house. I also hope they stay in Canada – the United States is still mired in the consequences of its Civil War and life would be much easier for them here   - and for their future children._ **

Elizabeth turned at the knock at the back door of the café and after putting down her pen, crossing to the door and opening it, saw Abbie standing there looking out over the town.

“Good Morning, Abbie” Turning around, Abbie smiled, ‘Oh, Hi Elizabeth. Is Abigail around? Crane and I have to leave in an hour or so and I was hoping to pack a muffin or two to go and maybe have a cup of coffee?”

“Of course, please come in” stepping aside to let Abbie into the comfortable back parlor where Abigail not only lives but does the baking and cooking for her customers. “Where’s Ichabod?”

“Still asleep. We have some time and he was tired. Besides, I’m a bit off this morning, so I thought maybe if Abigail has some crackers that will help my stomach.”

“Let me ask her,” Elizabeth said just as Abigail came in from the front.

“Ask me what? Oh, good morning Abbie.” Abigail’s smile is contagious and Abbie finds herself smiling right back.  _I am so going to miss this woman._

“I was hoping that I could purchase a few muffins to go and maybe have a cup of coffee before Crane and I get on the road. Oh, and do you have any crackers? My stomach is bothering me again.”

“Again?” Abigail asked reaching over to pour the coffee. She also grabbed a few crackers from her pantry and put them on a plate bringing a tray over to the dining table.

“Yeah, no big deal. Listen, I don’t want to hold you up. I know you have a business to run.”

“Abbie, please sit and have your coffee," indicating the chair across from Elizabeth, “I’ll pack you and Ichabod some breakfast and see if I can’t scare up a sandwich or two for your lunch later on,” seeing Abbie’s face, "And don’t tell me it’s too much. It’s not too much if it’s what I want to do. Drink your coffee and eat the crackers. I won’t be too long.”

Elizabeth watches Abigail go to the front of the café leaving Abbie and she alone in the back.  _Now’s my chance_ , Elizabeth thinks.

“Abbie, may I ask you a personal question?”

“You can ask…can’t guarantee I’ll answer, though. Shoot,” taking a sip of Abigail’s coffee.  _Damn good._

“Jack and I are courting and…well… his job is dangerous.”

“Yes…” Abbie wondered where this is going, thinking absently of how much time she had before she and Crane have to head out of town to reach the spell extraction point. As much as she likes Abigail’s coffee and the town, she is not interested in being stuck in 1911. Been to the past and bought two t-shirts _. I’m good_ , she thought,  _Time to go home_.

“Well, how does Ichabod control his fear considering the work that you do?” Elizabeth asked in a rush, the words coming fast now that they were being said.

Abbie looked at Elizabeth, sitting with her earnest and open face. Abbie is good at reading people – sizing them up and getting to the heart of what motivates them. It’s part of what makes her an excellent profiler – and Witness.

  _Wow,_   _she really thinks her fear is just about his job._

Leaning back in the chair, Abbie crosses her arms, “You and I are a lot alike in some ways.”

Taking in the petite woman, with her loose, wildly beautiful hair, trousers and unflinching air of commanding leadership, Elizabeth thinks Abbie is more like Jack, “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“Crane isn’t the one who’s afraid. I am,” slipping a cracker into her mouth.  _Damn nausea_.

Elizabeth stutters, “But you, you’re fearless…”

“I’m petrified,” with the sigh of a hard won admission. “I’m petrified of not being in control of my own life – my own destiny – of failing in my mission.  I had plans before Crane came along just like you did.” Abbie puts a hand up, seeing Elizabeth about to interrupt. “You left – you left the life that others had planned for you to find the life you wanted for yourself – to find out who  _you_ are really. You teach, yes because you love it, but also because you are in control in your classroom. It’s your theatre. You know what to do and how to do it. The job gets done or you will find a way to get it done. Your plans did not include falling in love with a Mountie who could go off for months at a time to different posts or be killed working out in this frontier. His job taking him from you is not something you can  _control_  – and that scares the hell out of you when you lay in bed at night thinking about him.”

Elizabeth blinks back sudden tears, hearing the truth in the rapidly spoken, bald words. “I…I don’t lay in bed at night thinking about Jack,” falling back on propriety and boundaries when all else fails.  _Oh,_ Abbie thinks _, I can read this one like a book – been there, done that too._

Abbie sits up in the chair, leaning on the table, staring intently at Elizabeth, “What’s your favorite dessert?”

“Beg pardon?” The rapid change in subject has Elizabeth’s head spinning a little.  _So this is what it’s like to experience the full force of Abbie’s personality?  Elizabeth had no idea._

“Favorite dessert. What is it?”

“Ice cream. Vanilla.” Elizabeth is still confused but willing to hear Abbie out. Elizabeth did ask the question, after all.

“You look at Jack Thorton like he is the biggest, best bowl of vanilla ice cream you are ever going to have in this life or the next.” Elizabeth gasps, scandalized and blushing, but far from able to deny it outright as Abbie sits back in the chair, “So don’t tell me you don’t think about him in bed at night.”

Taking a deep breath and exhaling, Elizabeth looked Abbie dead in the eye: “So, how did you cope?”

Abbie admits to herself, she a little proud of this one.  _She’s got real guts._  A smile – genuine, “Hot apple pie with ice cream, just melted enough to be good, but not too melted to be soggy.”

“What?” Elizabeth chuckled, feeling more like herself even within this strange conversation.

“Ichabod Crane. Inside the fear of losing control – of failing him and the mission, past the chaos that he can and does bring into my life, Crane is my hot apple pie with ice cream. He is the best dessert I'll ever have. He’s worth it. He reminds me every day that the letting go –  _the_   _risk_  - is worth it to have him in my life as he is now. So, the question for you – is Jack worth it to you? Is he  _worth_   _the risk_?” Abbie asked while she stood up, watching as the thoughts and realizations play across Elizabeth’s face and finally, a soft knowing smile.

“Abbie, I see Ichabod standing outside the saloon. Looks like he’s waiting for you,” Abigail calls from the front of the café, going to unlock the door for the morning crowd due any minute. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

“Be right there.” Abbie looked down at Elizabeth just as the younger woman looked up. “You love him. He loves you. The fear will always be there – just a little. That’s who we are. Move past it when you can., talk to him about it when you can’t. Make peace with the chaos and decide that he’s worth it. Every day.”

Elizabeth nods once. “Thank you.”

Abbie walked to the front of the café, taking the satchel Abigail had packed as she passed through the door, seeing Crane waiting patiently on the other side of the street. Abbie turns to say her last goodbye to Abigail Stanton.

“Thank you so much Abigail. You made me feel very welcome in Hope Valley when, well, let’s just say I’ve had to go places I didn’t feel nearly as welcome.”

Abigail reached out to hug Abbie, grateful for the chance to spend time with this amazing woman. “You’re welcome” she said leaning back but still holding Abbie in a loose hug, “But can I ask you something? You said you’ve been feeling an upset stomach? And you’re tired in the afternoons?” Abbie nods. “Not to pry, but when was your last monthly?”

Abigail watched Abbie do the calculations in her head and her eyes go wide “Oh my God! I…am I?”

Gently, rubbing Abbie’s arms, “I think you should find out when you get home. Either way, please come back to Hope Valley if you can. I’ll even make sure to have some warm apple pie with ice cream waiting,” Abigail smiled as she winked.

“How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough to know it was a conversation Elizabeth needed to have…what, you didn’t really think it took me that long to pack a few muffins and make sandwiches, did you?” Another quick hug and Abbie crossed the street to Crane turning to wave one last goodbye as Abigail welcomed her first customers of the day.

###

_“Well, Treasure, shall we make our way to the extraction point?” taking Abbie’s hand once more._

_Looking around, “Where is Jack? I wanted to say goodbye. He was really nice to us, Crane.”_

_“The Constable had to start his morning rounds, but sends his warmest regards. He offered to secure a wagon and take us to the extraction point, but I thought it best not to take him up on that generous offer.”_

_“No, probably don’t need the good Mountie seeing the dust up of a spell being reversed.” Abbie said with her customary dryness. “Ok, let’s blow this joint.” Abbie squeezed Crane hand giving him a radiant smile as they made their way out of town, frankly never intending to return to Hope Valley again._

_“And Crane, when we get back, you and I need to talk.”_

_“About what, dearest?”_

_“About why I probably have to give up coffee again.”_

_Intrigued. There goes that eyebrow again, Abbie thought._

_“As you wish, Treasure. As you wish.”_


End file.
